Until Morning Comes
by SipTheOcean
Summary: There was a long stretch of silence. The blond sat across from her, a river of platinum streams cascading over her shoulders. Clothing torn, eyes swollen from hours of sobbing, and scrapes and bruises that were visible over her hands and neck-


_**Disclaimer** : None of the characters mentioned in this story belong to me. They belong to DC Entertainment and them alone. Just because I am expanding on these characters in as a mere hobby, does not mean I am claiming them._

 _Listen to 13 Beaches by Lana Del Rey while reading, for that is what I listened to while writing it. It serves as some inspiration._

There was a long stretch of silence. The blond sat across from her, a river of platinum streams cascading over her shoulders. Clothing torn, eyes swollen from hours of sobbing, and scrapes and bruises that were visible over her hands and neck--

The redhead never could understand why her friend continued to submit to such torture, but she always remained by her side. Their eyes met briefly before the jester averted lightning blue irises away from deep green ones. Escaping the burdening guilt within herself was a natural response at this point.

The lack of verbal communication made the Botanist uneasy. As if on cue, the auburn haired damsel reached a nervous hand out and brushed careful fingertips against a torn section of clothing above the blond's thigh. The golden haired woman winced causing the ecoterrorist to retract her hand with an instantaneous grace.

"I'm so sorry!"

She hastened to apologize. Her tongue swept passed her teeth and over her lips. She was tempted to lean forward and press them against the blond's. To take away the pain brought on by the meat-sack, but she didn't. Consent was everything to her, and she was always much too shy to seek permission.

Odd, is it not? The great Poison Ivy too nervous to ask for a single kiss? The woman irresistible to any man by a single brush of her lips much too shy to kiss a woman? Then again, Harley wasn't just any human. She was a considerate friend and someone Pamela adored dearly.

"How--"

Ivy wanted to understand. Seeking logic behind the actions of her best friend, no, the love of her life, was a path she did not want to take. But she simply had to know. The blond tilted her head up, hands balling into fists in her lap as she did so.

Evenly curled tresses bounced elegantly as Pamela abruptly peered up at Harley. The redhead reached up and nestled her fingers in her hair, shaking her head.

"I don't understand, Harl. Why do you keep returning to that monster?"

Pamela questioned as she stood from the bed. She made her way to the bathroom. As quickly as she had left she returned, First Aid kit in her hands. The chemist sat beside her friend, eyes looking over the wounds through the almost shredded clothing.

"Are you comfortable with stripping so that I may cleanse your wounds, Harley-doll?"

Harley flinched at those words. They weren't demanding, and that was new. It would take time to adjust to the kindness of someone other than relatives. Even the teammates she thought she could place her trust in betrayed her.

"Y-Yeah."

Already disheveled locks became even more tangled as she lifted her shirt over her head. A groan escaped slightly cracked lips as the cotton brushed passed the bruises and scrapes over her body and neck. Pamela reached forward and aided her friend in stripping down to nothing, and this made Harley anxious.

Icy air caressed the Psychiatrist's skin, causing goosebumps to arise over her skin. Naturally, she brought her arms up to mask herself, fingers grasping at the damaged skin of her shoulders. It was painful, but she felt as though it was required. The fear of being punished for revealing herself too soon pooled in her veins, and when Pamela reached forward to bring her arms down. Harley gasped in response.

"It's okay!"

 _I hate that she is always..._

"It's okay." She whispered hushed reassurances.

 _...so afraid._

The redhead brought Harley's arms down gently, the blond's nipples hardening in the cool air. Pamela cleaned the doctor's wounds, dressed them, and placed the First Aid kit beside the bed.

There was no exchange of words as she laid Harley down gently, tucking her in. Reaching to switch the lamp off, the redhead was stopped. She found herself grasped, almost painfully, by lithe fingers around the wrist.

"Harley?"

The jester pulled herself closer to Ivy, resting her head in between her shoulder blades. She began to sob, causing the redhead to roll over and pull her into an embrace.

"I won't let him hurt you again. I promise."

A gentle smile painted her lips until the man crossed her mind. She hated every ounce of his being. Suddenly, the tone in her voice shifted to one of dripping spite.

"I'll kill him if he tries to find you."

This brought little to no relief for Harley, however. She wasn't worried if he found her. She was more so concerned of if he would bring harm to her, now considered, lover.

It was a thought that crossed the blond's mind more often than she'd like to admit. A woman lying with a woman is something she had rarely contemplated. In fact, the only time she'd ever pondered it was at the thought of Ivy. A temptress in every way. Such a toned, yet supple body. A curvaceous beauty. Gorgeous natural red curls, bright green eyes that nearly glowed in the dark, manicured nails scratching her own thighs in a nervous tick, painted lips lush in their form--

Every inch of Pamela was flawless in its beauty, and it made Harley's image about herself shrink in the dame's presence.

"I love you."

Ivy promised as she ran skilled fingers through the tangled mane of flaxen. The plant goddess's body was always inviting. Harley nuzzled closer, scrutinizing her next response. That's when she pulled away, sitting almost abruptly. There was a tinge of pain that shot through her veins, but she didn't mind. Pamela, however did, and when she reached to bring the blonde back down, Harley stopped her.

The Psychiatrist swept finely clipped nails over the chemist's cheek in prudent tact.

Leaning forward, agonizingly slow, she could see the ginger's puzzlement. This didn't stop her, however, from pressing her lips against Ivy's, grazing her tongue over Pamela's lower lip, begging entry.

There was a slight hesitance in the Botanist's response, but when she did it was with wary motif. Soon, she held the jester's cheeks in her own hands, prying the kiss deeper. Harley pulled Ivy down, grimacing at the sharp hint of pain surging throughout her body. Pamela attempted to pull away from the kiss, to check on Harley, but she didn't allow it. Nimble fingers were nestled in auburn locks, forcing her back into the kiss, and Pamela obliged.

Ivy knew that this would lead to nothing, that this was for Harley to escape the abuse briefly, and it destroyed her. Perhaps they were equally as unhealthy as the next? With Harley's co-dependency and Pamela's self-destructive mannerisms, it was no better than the jester's relationship with the beast.

Destroying herself over a woman was not in Ivy's taste, but she continued to do it for quite some time. She never went out on dates, made new friends. Her life revolved around the Doctor's, for whenever she needed her, the temptress would always be there.

"Make love to me."

It was no demand from Harley. Fear was evident in her voice as she pleaded, and it sickened Ivy to no end. Harley was always so afraid. She could never act on any true desires. Never once was she completely informed of every event, but the few incidences she was enlightened on sent liquid, hot rage coursing through her veins.

Love was something Ivy didn't know how to express to its full potential. With a history of manipulating humans for her benefit, how could she? Despite this, she always managed to tend to Harley's every need.

 _Every. Need._

Pamela moved with skillful hands. She was expert in her touch. Hands caressing ever so gently over wounds, fingertips splayed over Harley's ribcage as she stroked a particularly ticklish section of skin.

It was now scraped to nothing, burning to the touch, and something Ivy would cleanse again later. She fumbled the pad of her thumb over Harley's nipple, causing the blond to hitch her breath.

Pamela provided Harley with one more kiss before moving down the blond's body. She took a nipple into her mouth, taking it in between her teeth. Gentle flicks over her tongue had Harley trembling, leading the temptress to believe that she was very, if ever, rarely on the receiving end.

The psychiatric Doctor was in shambles over such simple acts, impatiently forcing Ivy's head lower. She couldn't help but smile at this, finding it adorable.

Prolonging her response, she inhaled Harley's scent. It was always naturally sweet, and when she delved her tongue into Harley's depths, she found the faint saltiness complimented the aroma. She ran her tongue over the sensitive bundle over nerves, slipped her fingers inside of Harley.

It didn't take long to send Harley over the edge, and when she climaxed, she nestled her fingers, harshly into crimson tresses. The blond's walls clamped down with each wave of orgasmic pleasure that washed over her. There was a sense of beauty in this, inner walls searching aimlessly for something to cling to. Throbbing with every ounce of pleasure--

"I love you so much. I want to spend my life with you, Pamela."

Those words were simple and breathy, but they took Ivy's breath away. Hope surged through her, as it always did, and she wanted to cry knowing that it likely wasn't true. She didn't, for fear of bringing Harley any reason to concern.

Pamela smiled warmly as she wiped the wetness away from her lips and fingers on her thigh. She then moved up, laying beside Harley, and pulled her into her arms.

"I love you too. So much."

Hues of early morning light painted the room. Warmth from rays seeping in through open blinds woke Ivy. She turned over to check if Harley was still there, and as she suspected she was absent from her bedside. Ivy was immediately stricken with devastation. She despised the false hope Harley continued to provide, but she would never leave. She never will.

She didn't want to. The pain was a comfort to her. It reminded her of what it felt like to be human.

Instead, she mourned.


End file.
